


Over the Edge

by StormyDaze



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Betrayal, Cunnilingus, F/F, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Fingering, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 21:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17009556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyDaze/pseuds/StormyDaze
Summary: For Eleanor, marriage is the only escape from a life trapped with her unpleasant family. Still, the prospect frightens her. But surely Carmen would never hurt her.





	Over the Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liesmyth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmyth/gifts).



> I was so captivated by this prompt that I absolutely couldn't even think of doing a different one. It was such fun to write and I hope you enjoy it. Happy holidays!
> 
> A huge thanks to my beta, as always (you know who you are.) <3

Eleanor’s hand was sweaty in Carmen’s. She cringed internally at what Carmen must think of that and wished she could wipe it off on her skirt, but she didn’t want to pull away from Carmen long enough to do so.

Carmen, for her part, gave no indication that she noticed. She had her eye on the stern, grey-haired priest in front of them, who was reciting a dry religious passage. Eleanor couldn’t bring herself to focus on it. Neither she nor Carmen were a member of the priest’s particular religious sect, but this was the only person Carmen could find who would agree to marry them on such short notice, without their parents’ approval. 

“Miss Carmen Estasia Lafournette, do you consent to be wed to Miss Eleanor Alice Drumange, to share your home, your heart, and your bed, to respect and care for your spouse, and to be one in all things, united against the world?”

“I do.” Carmen’s melodic voice did not tremble, nor did she hesitate for even an instant. She glanced at Eleanor out of the corner of her eye and gave her a flash of a secret smile. Eleanor tried to return it, but she suspected it did not have the same effect. Her stomach was churning with anxiety and guilt. She was trying very desperately not to imagine what her parents would say when they found out what she had done. What Ronald would say. 

Carmen gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Carmen would take care of her. Hadn’t she just vowed to do so?

“Miss Eleanor Alice Drumange, do you consent to wed to Miss Carmen Estasia Lafournette, to share your home, your heart, and your bed, to respect and care for your spouse, and to be one in all things, united against the world?”

Eleanor swallowed around the knot in her throat. “Your bed” echoed in her head, giving her a swooping sensation in her chest. Ronald always pushed the boundaries of propriety. If they were alone for even a second, he wanted nothing but to put his hands all over her, to whisper horrifyingly filthy things in her ear. But Carmen had promised it would be different. “What happens in our bedroom is no one’s business,” she’d said, her voice low and smooth. “You know I love you, darling. We can go as slowly as you like. All I want is you.”

The priest was staring at her, waiting for her response. Eleanor swallowed again. “I do.” The words came out in a croaky whisper, nothing like Carmen’s confident proclamation. Oh well. They were said. They could not be taken back.

The priest passed Carmen a pen and tapped the line on the marriage document for her to sign, which she did with a flourish, the elegant loops of her name skating across the page. She handed the pen to Eleanor, who finally had to drop Carmen’s hand to take it. She scrubbed the hand quickly on her brown wool skirt before she took it. Her signature was blocky and slow. It looked stodgy next to Carmen’s elegance, but then, everything about Eleanor did. 

_And she loves me anyway,_ Eleanor reminded herself.

“Then let me announce, before God and the law, that these two shall this day be united in marriage, until death shall take them to the world beyond. So it is done.” The priest nodded decisively.

Carmen wrapped her arms around Eleanor’s waist and lifted her a few inches from the ground, spinning her around, their skirts whirling. A nervous laugh bubbled up from Eleanor’s throat even as a blush rushed to her face at such a display in public. It was hardly decent. But they were married now, weren’t they? Married couples were permitted some leniences.

Carmen kissed her, slow and deep, that kind of kiss that made all the blood rush to Eleanor’s head. And… other places, although she was not quite ready to approach that just yet. Some day, perhaps. 

“Let’s go home,” Carmen whispered to Eleanor, still holding her close to her chest. She was just tall enough to rest her chin on the top of Eleanor’s head, and her loose dark hair formed a curtain of privacy around the two of them. 

“Let’s go home,” Eleanor repeated.

********

Carmen did not let go of her in the carriage the entire way back to her manor. She carefully plucked the pins from Eleanor’s dirty-blonde hair, letting it tumble down, stick-straight. Eleanor still thought loose hair was scandalously indecent, although Carmen assured her it was becoming much more accepted overseas, but in any case, no one would see. Carmen carded her fingers through Eleanor’s hair, and Eleanor found herself relaxing by degrees. In Carmen’s arms, she could breathe. She didn’t have to hold up the shields she did around everyone else. She trusted Carmen with all the soft parts of her.

“We have to tell my parents,” she said. And Ronald. She wasn’t sure who would be angrier. Her parents wanted her to make a good match, to have someone who would care for her, and she wasn’t sure how to convince them that Carmen was that someone. They’d think she was throwing her life away. For Ronald, the issue would be his injured pride. He wasn’t used to being rejected, especially for a member of what he considered the weaker sex. 

Carmen pulled her closer, until she was almost sitting on the other woman’s lap. “Don’t worry about that now,” she crooned. “Tomorrow. And you know that I’ll take care of you, my lamb.” Eleanor closed her eyes and concentrated on Carmen’s comfortable warmth.

She was almost ready to fall asleep when they arrived at Carmen’s manor. Their manor, now. Carmen tugged her out of the carriage, nodding politely to Mason, the driver, and pulled her inside. Miss Winston, the housekeeper, was sitting in the parlor, knitting something or other. Something entirely different, Eleanor noticed, than she had been working on when they’d left for the church. Maybe Eleanor would ask her to teach her, sometime. She’d like to knit something for Carmen, a scarf or a hat perhaps. Something to keep her warm and safe, the way Carmen always made her feel.

Carmen swept into the pantry and pulled down a bottle of wine, snagging two glasses as well on her way past the china cabinet. “We’ll be upstairs,” she said to Miss Winston. “Feel free to take the night off.”

Miss Winston smiled benevolently at them. “Have fun, ladies,” she said, winking. Carmen just laughed and danced up the stairs, Eleanor hurrying to keep up.

Eleanor had never been in Carmen’s bedroom before — why would she have? — but it wasn’t difficult to find. It was at the very back of the second floor, secluded and private. Eleanor saw the the hem of Carmen’s dark red skirt flick around the corner of the doorway, and followed. The bedroom was paneled in dark wood, contrasting the bright white of the sheets on the bed and a fluffy white rug sprawled on the dark wood floor. Carmen was already pouring the wine, dark as her dress, into two glasses set on the dresser. She took a sip from one and handed the other to Eleanor, beaming at her.

Eleanor took a tentative sip and had to make effort not to spit it out. It was sharp and acidic, nothing more than sour grape juice. Still, Carmen might laugh at her if she didn’t drink it. Carmen liked to laugh at her for her youth, her innocence, her naïveté. “Oh, my little lamb, you have so much to learn!” she would say. 

Eleanor took another, larger sip of the wine. It was better the second time, now that she was prepared for it. 

Carmen sat on the foot of the bed, patting the duvet next to her for Eleanor to sit. Eleanor sat, careful not to spill the wine. Just the thought of staining Carmen’s nice sheets made her face burn.

It had been cold and wet outside, but inside was warm and cozy. Carmen once again began to card her free hand through Eleanor’s hair, and Eleanor melted into her touch. She took another sip of the wine. This time, she barely noticed the taste. 

It really was _very_ warm in here, wasn’t it? Eleanor was sure her face was burning up. She tugged a little bit on the collar of her dress, feeling stifled. She wasn’t sure why she felt so hot; the fireplace was dark, Miss Winston having not gotten around to lighting it for the evening. The oil lamps cast a dim golden glow on everything. Eleanor blinked, and the light scattered like stars.

Was she drunk? Surely not. She might not have experience with alcohol, but she was fairly sure that most adults were able to consume a glass without coming over faint. In fact, Carmen had just drained her glass and set it down carefully on the floor at their feet.

Carmen took the glass from Eleanor’s trembling hands and sat it down next to the first. “Shh,” she said, cupping Eleanor’s face in her hands. Her fingers felt so lovely and cool on Eleanor’s skin. “Don’t be frightened, my lamb. It’s just a mild aphrodisiac, nothing to worry about.”

Eleanor’s breath hitched. “What—?”

Carmen smiled her gentle, beautiful smile. “I thought it would make things easier for you. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” She slid a hand down Eleanor’s back, deftly popping the buttons on her blouse with nimble fingers. The blouse flopped forward off her shoulders, and Carmen pulled it off and tossed it away onto the floor.

The room seemed to spin, and Eleanor heard her pulse throbbing in her ears. “No,” she said, trying to stand up, to push away. “No, I didn’t— I don’t want—”

Carmen pushed her back down onto the bed and began to unlace Eleanor’s boots. Eleanor struggled, but her movements seemed slower than usual, even more clumsy and uncoordinated. Carmen laughed at her. “Silly little lamb,” she said. “You must get over these issues regarding your body. It may not what most girls dream of, but it’s perfectly serviceable, and you should learn to enjoy it.” Eleanor flinched and averted her gaze, but this only drew her attention to her own exposed breasts. Mortified, she reached around for something to cover up with, but the white stretch of the duvet was bare as a snow-covered field. 

Carmen stripped Eleanor’s boots, stockings, and skirt off with expert, perhaps practiced, efficiency. Eleanor thought of the sordid rumors that swirled when Carmen had first come to town, rumors she had written off as jealousy and hyperbole. They now seemed much less suspect.

Carmen hiked her own skirt above her knees and straddled Eleanor’s nude body. She reached behind herself and undid her own buttons, and then tugged her dress over her head in a fluid movement and tossed it to the floor with the pile of Eleanor’s clothes. Eleanor couldn’t drag her gaze away from the smooth expanses of pearly skin, the curtain of dark hair that tumbled over the marble-white shoulders. Her eyes landed on Carmen’s breasts, small and round, with surprisingly dark nipples that stood out stiffly. 

Eleanor would have thought that she couldn’t be more mortified, but apparently she was wrong. Now she was uncomfortably aware of her own doughy body, the way her breasts sagged against her ribcage, the rolls of fat around her waist. “Perfectly serviceable,” Carmen had said. Eleanor supposed she was lucky Carmen didn’t think her completely repulsive.

Did she want Carmen to find her nude body attractive? Eleanor was so confused, and the room was _so incredibly hot._ A pulse of… something rolled down through her stomach and puddled between her legs, a throbbing ache growing there, completely unlike anything she had ever felt before. With it came a need, a hunger that she could barely describe. All she knew was that she wanted to be touched, longed for the feeling of skin on skin. A small whimper escaped her throat.

“That’s what I was waiting for,” Carmen said, leaning down so that she covered Eleanor’s body with her own. “You’ll see, my little lamb. I’m going to make you feel so good. Someday we might not even need the aphrodisiacs, hm? You’ll learn to like it, I know you will.” 

She bent her head down and began to suck on one of Eleanor’s nipples. Breasts were for feeding infants, Eleanor knew. She’d never dreamed they could cause such sensation! Sparks rolled inside her veins, and the cleft between her legs throbbed. She bucked her hips up, trying to rub herself against Carmen’s leg, not even knowing what sort of feeling she was seeking, but anything had to be better than this insufferable _yearning._

Carmen raised her head and laughed. “Eager, are we?” she said. “You must learn to ask for what you want, Eleanor. Go on. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Eleanor opened her mouth, but the only thing that came out was a small squeak. She tried again. “Touch me,” she whispered, cheeks burning.

Carmen sat up and traced a finger down in the cleft between Eleanor’s breasts. “Here?” she asked playfully.

Eleanor swallowed. “Lower,” she whispered.

Carmen ran the finger over the soft curves of Eleanor’s stomach, circling around her navel. “Here? Be specific, my dear. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Eleanor licked her lips. The blood rushing in her head almost drowned out all thought. “I want you to touch me. Between my legs.” The last words were barely a breath of air, but Carmen understood. She slid backwards, off the bed until she was kneeling on the floor, and pushed Eleanor’s knees apart, exposing her private place to the empty room. 

Carmen huffed out a breath. “Look at you,” she said admiringly. “That blush _does_ go all the way down.” She stroked the crease where Eleanor’s thigh met her hip. “I knew you had to be beautiful under those frumpy skirts. I’ve been wanting to do this to you since the moment I first saw you.”

A sick, heavy feeling gripped Eleanor’s chest. She thought back to hands held under the table while her parents sniped at each other, to the way Carmen stroked her hair, to secret smiles and stolen glances. All this time, this was what Carmen was after? 

“Let’s have a lesson,” Carmen said with a mischievous grin. “You don’t know much about your body, do you? Your prude of a mother never let you find out.” She swiped a finger through Eleanor’s fold, and Eleanor felt a tingle shoot up into her stomach. “This is your clit, Eleanor. Say, ‘Carmen, I want you to suck my clit.’”

Eleanor’s mouth was dry, and and her whole body ached with want. “I want you to suck my c-clit,” she breathed.

Carmen’s finger just barely brushed over it, an agonizing tease. “I can’t hear you,” she said.

“I want you to suck my clit.” Eleanor forced the words out, feeling shamefully filthy.

A grin split Carmen’s face. “Of course, my love. Anything you want.” She lowered her head and licked a stripe up between Eleanor’s legs. Eleanor gasped. It was like lightning was shooting up from her— from her _clit_ as Carmen licked and sucked. Eleanor bucked her hips, trying to get as much of herself into Carmen’s mouth, but Carmen clamped down on her thighs and held her in place. Still, Eleanor writhed under her grip. What had come over her? Was it really the drug that made her act this way, that made her crave something so depraved as a woman’s _tongue_ between her legs? Or had she really been like this all along?

Eleanor gasped and moaned as Carmen expertly manipulated her clit with her tongue and her lips, sucking, pulling, rolling, teasing. Eleanor felt as if she were in the throes of a bad fever, burning up from the inside. But still the wanting, yearning, empty feeling wasn’t quenched. “Lower,” she panted, hardly knowing what she was saying.

Carmen looked up at her, Eleanor’s wetness dripping obscenely from her face. “Time for our next lesson.” She pressed a finger in between Eleanor’s folds, into the heart of the empty ache. “This is your cunt. Say, ‘Carmen, I want you to finger my cunt.’”

“I-I want you to f-finger my c-cunt.” Would that make this end?

Carmen thrust two fingers into Eleanor, pumping them quickly in and out. The stretch burned, but it soothed the aching emptiness. Yes, this was what she needed, and she ground her hips down on Carmen’s hand. Carmen added a third finger, stretching her more, the slick between her legs making obscene squelching noises, but Eleanor was beyond caring. All she wanted was some release, some end to this torment, and she somehow knew that it was close, if only she could reach it.

Carmen rubbed the fingers of her other hand against Eleanor’s clit, and then gave it a hard tweak, and Eleanor exploded, pain and pleasure rolling over her like ocean waves, dragging her down and tossing her head over heels. 

She wasn’t sure how long she drowned in sensation. It seemed like an eternity. When she finally came to, Carmen had climbed back onto the bed and was curled around her, stroking her ribs just beneath her breast. Eleanor turned her head away, feeling hot tears pour out and scorch her cheeks. Her insides felt like they wanted to fold up and disappear.

Carmen lightly gripped her chin and turned her head back toward her, and then kissed her on the lips. Unlike previous kisses, this one was deep and wet and sloppy, and Eleanor could taste something salty and musky that she realized with a sick lurch must be her own wetness. She shuddered out another sob.

Carmen stroked her fingers through Eleanor’s hair. It made Eleanor want to claw her skin off, but she willed herself to be still.

“There,” Carmen said. “Wasn’t that fun?”


End file.
